


I Did Something Bad

by stellalucem



Category: Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Daddy Kink, Degradation, F/M, Humiliation, Light Spanking, Mild Femdom/Domme Reader, Older Man/Younger Woman, Possessive Behavior, Public Hand Jobs, Public Orgasm, Reader is 18, Vaginal Fingering, graduation ceremony, hooking up in an old classroom, keep quiet or get caught, second chapter tags are as follows:, switch!Charlie, switch!Reader, the trope where you're in love with your best friend's dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellalucem/pseuds/stellalucem
Summary: Charlie's daughter is your best friend. He's a divorced, single dad and he's always been nice to you, but maybe you and him both feel things for each other that should never be expressed aloud... that was, until now.
Relationships: Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You
Comments: 28
Kudos: 72





	1. i wanna be held, fragile like glass

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the Taylor Swift song by the same name!

You were standing by the entrance, pressing the bell at the pale door of your best friend, Andrea’s two-story. Your sneakers were painted with mud, but your denim skirt and white pocket tee were in perfect condition. In the front of the yard, you had tied up your bike to the porch railing, like you always had. Your shoulder-length hair blew in the wind.

As soon as you’d gotten the call from Andrea Barber that morning, pouring out your cereal clumsily, you’d promised to be there in ten minutes. With a bit of struggling, you stayed true to that, looping up your bike helmet for the ride within only five minutes. Your part-time job as a waitress had taught you how to be efficient with time.

There was another, entirely different reason for your speedy arrival, and that was Andrea’s father, Charlie Barber. You’d known him since you were only thirteen, but you had been love-struck for years, with your eighteenth birthday celebration having been only the previous month. Everyone said that something about you “screamed spring birthday,” but you had never gotten the meaning. Either way, now you were an adult, officially. 

Although, in all honesty, you had acted like you were an adult at only sixteen, acing your final exams even with a boyfriend of your own. He was sweet, but then he went off kissing cheerleaders, and it barely even hurt for you to dump him after that. It was then that you realized how many boys you kept using as a distraction from Mr. Barber.

He was divorced from his previous wife, Nicole, now. They had argued a lot during the last weeks, about two years prior, when Andrea was sixteen and always driving over with her new license to your place as they fought about lawyers and such. And then there were the custody issues, with Andrea staying at Nicole’s on only Sundays in the present day. Now, things were better, _much_ better. 

Charlie was happy, saying that his love for Nicole was different now. They shared a love for Andrea. You wished that he could love you too, in a special way.

He made your cunt light up in flames, wetting your panties right through with slick. You recalled a moment out of a roller rink just the previous summer with Andrea and Charlie. You were practically dead on the floor as soon as he gripped your hands to help you move in the neon retro skates. In seconds, you’d escaped to the washroom, rubbing yourself frantically through your bicycle shorts and fishnets, braced against the counter. It gave you a certain type of rush, doing something that you knew that you shouldn’t, something that felt oh-so-dirty but also _so insanely good_ ,

This year, your senior year, had been one of your busiest. You finally started birth control, and now your lighter periods were a blessing. Exams and studying were awful, and you required fruity gum and loud music to get through it all. However, you would be graduating in just one week that you knew would be filled with ceremonies and diplomas and parties. The worst was over, and now the end was near.

Andrea had thought that coming over to eat ice cream and watch television would be a fun way to celebrate,

You came back to Earth with the sharp _click_ of the front door being opened by none other than Charlie Barber.

“So hot outside,” he mouthed with a laugh, welcoming you in and taking a step back. “How are you? Andrea’s just upstairs fixing her bed.” He was wearing white shorts with handsome pleats in them and a cotton blue shirt with the top two buttons unbuttoned.

Inside, it was clear how much he towered over you at 6’2”. You had always been attracted to tall boys, even as a budding little girl with a crush on an older boy in elementary school.

“Hi,” you began shyly, wanting nothing more than to sit on his shoulders and tower over the rest of the world. Up there, you’d be unstoppable. “I’m okay.” You shrugged, before smiling. “At least exams are finally done. I bet Andrea has told you how glad _she_ is.” You began to slip off your shoes, placing them on the mat as Charlie locked the door. 

“ _Nonstop_ , right, Dad?” Andrea was at the base of the stairs, standing with her arms crossed over her chest and an enormous grin on her face at the sound of your voice. She ran forward to hug you, and you laughed as she practically squeezed you into orange juice. “[Y/N]! _So_ happy to see you.”

“You too!”

Andrea pulled back, showing off her outfit. She wore a pair of denim overalls over a striped red and white t-shirt. Her chestnut hair was pulled up into a high bun with a red scrunchie, a black one tied around her wrist. “Cute skirt,” she said, checking out your denim skirt with buttons trailing down the front. Choose the _right_ few buttons and you would be on display.

“Thanks,” you giggled.

Charlie smiled in the background, disappearing into the kitchen. You could hear as he opened the massive cabinets over the counters, taking down three grey bowls and leaning down to dig in the chilly freezer for the magic tub of ice cream that had the power to keep the two teens happy as ever in the heat.

In the living room, a fan was plugged in beside the television, blowing air throughout the room and house, buzzing faintly.

You followed Andrea, plopping down beside her on the couch and lifting up your arms to feel the cool air that was circulating.

She sighed. “A/C’s not doing too well.”

You looked at her sadly, lowering your arms. “Mine too. Sometimes it’s nice to just get out and ride on your bike around town, though, right?”

“Yeah, even when it’s _crazy_ busy.” She lowered her voice considerably before continuing. “How did you do on the exams? I failed math, and Charlie’s upset but I can tell that he’s fighting to not show it.”

“I did okay. I mean, I passed everything. Well, _except_ for physics, but that’s fine - who did?” You laughed.

“Jessica slept with him,” Andrea muttered, watching her dad out of the corner of her eye as he struggled to open the ice cream jug, cursing his cold hands.

“Fun,” you replied dryly before starting to laugh at Charlie in the distance.

Andrea followed, and, soon enough, both of you two were laughing your heads off. You two could make fun out of every miserable, okay, or even plain boring scenario. “Crazy balls of energy,” Charlie had always called you and her, even when you and Andrea were young teens. You two had always been the way that you were, best friends for _so many years_. You and her knew so much about each other that, sometimes, it felt like you were a psychic, being able to read her so well without even a word being uttered. 

So he got it, you thought with an internal smirk as Charlie called you two into the dining room, where he had placed down three bowls with three scoops of chocolate ice cream in each. It was funny how all three of you liked it, you thought.

Sliding into a chair at the table, sitting across from Charlie, you whispered with a smile, “Thanks, Mr. B.”

“Welcome,” he replied, lifting up his spoon and sinking it into his ice cream. You watched, transfixed, as he closed his mouth around the spoon, licking the ice cream off with his tongue before digging it back into his bowl. 

A nudge from Andrea made you tear your eyes away. “So yummy!” She grinned.

You smiled back, savouring your own bite of the rich, delicious chocolate ice cream. In your house, you mostly ate vanilla with chocolate syrup if you could get away with it, as that was the closest you alone could get to chocolate, with your father being allergic. This was a very strong advantage of knowing Andrea and her family; they _loved_ chocolate _everything_. To you, it was heaven. 

Within less than three minutes, you were scraping your spoon along the sides of the bowl to lick up all of the delicious, melted cream. You blushed, dropping your spoon with a _clatter_ as you caught Charlie staring.

He lightly laughed to himself, getting up with his bowl and dropping it and the spoon into the metal sink after rinsing it off, water gushing out of the tap. 

You and Andrea followed suit. However, being so close to Charlie just… _did things_ to your body. He made you weak in your knees, wanting against all reasoning to fall down in front of him and beg, unzipping his fly for him to satisfy yourself. Your cunt fluttered, tightening at the thought, and you hurried to sit down, crossing your legs and uncrossing them once or twice under the table, disguising it with a sip of your water.

You regretted it the second that your eyes wandered to the front of Charlie’s shorts as you swallowed. The tent was obvious. It made you feel special and noticed. Daddy had noticed you, not for the first time.

However, your choking on the water was not sexy at all. You spluttered, gasping, standing up and bracing yourself against the counter. Andrea and Charlie, standing at the sink and washing the dishes, turned around immediately.

Charlie rushed forward, ripping off his rubber gloves to get to you. Firmly, he hit your upper back, and you gasped one last time. Daddy’s hands were on you. “T-thank you, D- _Charlie_ .” You nearly choked _again_ at that slip-up, but neither he nor she seemed to notice, and, for that, you were eternally grateful. 

You sat there, playing with the loose threads at the edge of your individual cloth placement, sewed by Andrea at school, desperate to do anything instead of seeing his shorts. His tent. His co-

“-ming?” Andrea asked with a smile, waving you over to the living room. Charlie sat on the couch for two as Andrea turned on the television, stepping back to switch the channel onto General Hospital.

You took the seat next to Charlie without consulting your brain first, groaning along with him as the show started to play, voices coming out of the speakers.

“Soap operas haunt this household now,” Charlie chuckled darkly. “She’s hooked and keeps on pulling me in for the ride.” He shrugged helplessly. “I mean, what is a dad to do?”

Laughing, you said, “She keeps on trying to convert me, too! Just won’t shut up about it!”

Andrea turned to you, poking your chest threateningly in a playful manner, growling, “Hey, don’t insult GH! Shush, Sonny’s on!”

You giggled, but that stopped as soon as Andrea went and plopped herself to your left. Your brain screamed “no!” but your heart screamed “yes!” as you felt yourself squeezed next to Charlie. You refused to look at him. If you shivered, he’d feel it. If you crossed your legs, he’d see it. And… if you looked into his eyes, well, you’d just pass out, so that wouldn’t exactly be a “subtle reaction” in your books. One girl at school in freshman year had screamed about having a nosebleed when on a date, blaming it on his “sexy growling.” Back then, you had laughed, never believing her. Was it even biologically possible? It hurt your brain.

Science wasn’t exactly what you wanted to think about right now. The science of his cock, for instance, probably heavy and large, big enough to practically split you into two. You just _knew_ that Charlie was big. Really big. Bigger than any toy and any other boy your age, You'd be dripping slick before he even touched your slit. Dirty, slutty... and all for Daddy.

You felt yourself turning red as the screen displayed a steamy scene between two doctors.

Your right hand and Charlie's left hand were very close, practically touching. You wanted to grab it and worship it, just like every other part of his body,

Right man, wrong time? You hated that phrase because it hurt somewhere, deep inside, to realize that it could very likely be the reality of your situation.

Your jean skirt was short. Easy access, if he wanted to. He could touch you, rub you, and you would never need your own hand or even a vibrator ever again.

"Urgh!" Andrea exclaimed without warning, and you felt Charlie jolt up, probably lost in thought like you. Or, maybe, he actually cared about the soap opera. "I have to go to the washroom. Pause it for me?" 

You nodded, trying to disguise your joy, pussy wettening in anticipation at being alone with him as you leant over to grab the remote, pressing down the pause button before setting it back down on the ottoman. 

When you heard the bathroom door click locked from upstairs, you turned to Charlie. The law couldn't stop you now. You were eighteen, almost out of school. This was it. This was your chance.

"Can I show you something?" you asked gently, almost purring as you grabbed his left hand. He could back out if he wanted, but it was obvious that he wanted this as you pulled his hand to your inner thigh, under your skirt. 

His eyes widened tenfold, turning to face you.

"I'm wet, Daddy," you murmured, and he cupped your pussy through your panties. They were soaked through, and you positively _gasped_ as his thumb pushed aside the fabric to press up against your folds, wet with slick.

"Cute little cunt," he muttered as you hiked up your skirt to your hips, lowering your own hands slowly to rub yourself. The butterflies were overwhelming, and they just felt _so good_. It made you so hot to imagine Andrea walking down the stairs and seeing you two. But you and Charlie would be careful.

"So good, Mr. Barber." You grinned roguishly.

As you moved to snake a hand under your underwear, Charlie grabbed your wrist, pinning it firmly to your side and giving you a stern look, scooting closer.

You were confused, but then he pulled you down on to him, and you wrapped your hands around his face, absolutely devouring him. His taste. He tasted so good, the chocolate in his mouth. You wanted to get high off of the taste, pressing your tongue against his and taking in his mouth. _Delicious_. 

He was pressing his lips against yours, rough and dominating. He squeezed your pussy, making you moan lightly, unaware of your being able to even make such noises.

Everything seemed to fade away as your lips met. You were rubbing your cherry chapstick all over him, but he didn't seem to mind, so neither did you. He'd be able to taste you, then, licking his lips while doing the dishes or taking a shower, hands wrapped around his cock.

A click from upstairs made you both separate in less than a second. He licked his lips, tasting you as he started into your eyes.

You were _so, so wet_. But what would she know, you thought as Andrea slid up beside you again.

Charlie unpaused the show, movements stiff and awkward. You. He wanted you. You wanted every bit of you right then. Always.

In your mouth, you could still taste him. You hoped that you'd be able to taste him, feel him, for days and days.

You wanted every bit of him right then. Always.

Charlie knotted his fingers between yours, eyes on the screen. No one would have to know a thing.


	2. say you can't eat, can't sleep, can't breathe without me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Charlie meet again, on the day of your high school graduation ceremony, and how can you resist following up on what you both couldn't get to on the date of your previous meeting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone was asking for a second chapter, so here it is! :) Hope you all like it, because I worked pretty hard on this one

It was a special day.

_The_ day.

Your graduation.

But you weren’t in a limousine or a fairy tale carriage.

Instead, you were out on your front step as the wind brushed past you, wearing your dark graduation robes with a purplish-navy knee-length dress hidden underneath. Gripped in your hand was your starched graduation cap with the green ribbon hanging from it, _whishing_ back and forth. The sun shone down on you.

The wait wasn’t exactly the problem, though. It was Charlie. You hadn’t seen him in a week since the _incident_ , and you lay in bed, just thinking, for hours each night since.

You _missed_ him, if you were to be honest.

Your chestnut hair, curled elegantly for the celebration, brushed against your cheek as your eyes flitted to your left at the sound of an engine whirring.

It was just a red Jeep. No Charlie.

Andrea was sick with the stomach flu, probably curled up under her covers right that moment, crying her eyes out as she read the letters and signatures of her senior classmates out of the yearbook, stained with salty tears. You felt bad for her, missing the special day, even though you knew that Charlie was bringing along his phone and would be streaming the event for her to watch, sniffling and sucking chicken noodle soup broth out of her warm, metal spoon.

A more vain part of you _wanted_ Charlie all to yourself like this.

You pushed all of the figments of your imagination that followed aside, because the more reasonable and responsible part of you kept parroting that nothing would happen. You were in a high school, with thousands of pupils and their families. Charlie wouldn’t take the risk, and neither would you. You hoped that he _wanted_ to, though, deep inside.

Your kitten heels grew uncomfortable as the minutes passed by, anxiety growing in your stomach. Even the squirrels climbing up the trees seemed to look at you strangely, chirping to each other, “What is she doing all alone, on a day like this?”

Just then, you saw a blue van crawl up the road, honking lightly and rolling down the front windows as the driver stopped in front of your family’s house.

“Charlie!” you called out, joyfully and gratefully, a grin on your face.

“You’re looking great,” he said, smirking, as you ran up, blushing with excitement.

You pulled back the doorknob, sliding into the seat, careful to not dirty your robe on the wet mud of the summer grass on the curb. You slammed the door shut, buckling yourself up with a sharp _snap-click_. “Thanks!”

Things felt awkward as Charlie began to drive down your street. You watched the houses of your childhood, changed over time, as they flitted past your line of vision. The window was perfectly clear, so Charlie must have just gotten to have it cleaned.

  
  


_Don’t talk about_ **_that_ ** , your soul whispered, _anything but that_.

“Is Andrea feeling alright?” You knew the answer, but what else was there to say, other than the unspoken topic that could only stay unspoken for so long.

You’d called this man “Daddy,” told him how helplessly wet you were as he had fingered you, while your friend was just upstairs. How would you ever be able to talk to him and talk _about_ him in the context of “Andrea’s dad” ever again? The thought had plagued you, even before the event only a few weeks ago that had flipped your small little universe upside-down.

‘She’s not her best,” Charlie replied, honking at a slow driver in front of him, “but better than yesterday. I’m sure that you’re very upset about her not coming. She’s upset too.” He looked at you for a second before taking a sharp turn down a side street, making you tilt towards the car door.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, leaning forward in your seat, fingers twisting the knob for the radio. You fumbled with the tuner for a while before setting on your local indie/pop channel. They always played the same music, but that was fine. _Anything_ to break the silence, to clear your thoughts of _him_ , that day on the sofa.

“Turns out I don’t want new, I want you,” whispered a voice melodically from the speakers.

You looked out of the window, watching as happy couples crossed the street together, pushing a baby carriage. A man to your left was smoking at the bus stop, leaning up against the pole. Beside him, a lady was smiling down at her phone, typing fervently. Who would _you_ be? What would you contribute to the world that you lived in?

“Do you drive fast, when you realize you’re on my street? Do you drive slowly? Do you think about me?”

So far, you were only sure of one thing: college was expensive as hell. You had applied to a few in the area. Andrea meanwhile, had applied to one of the same ones as you, but also one way up in Canada. New Brunswick, to be exact. She liked the coast. Maybe that would suit her.

You didn’t want her to leave you.

And if Charlie left with her… you weren’t sure what you’d do. They had always stuck together, and then there was the situation with Nicole, recently remarried to an old high school crush, or so Andrea had described it. Would Charlie leave the state for Andrea, would he stay for Nicole, or would he stay for you?

You wondered if it was an easy decision for him to make, perhaps, knowing that it wasn’t.

Your feelings and emotions were a mess.

“I missed you,” you got out before you could take it back or tell yourself not to. You let the words flow straight from your soul, simple but with great meaning. “Do you-” You weren’t sure of what you would say next, but then-

“Of course I do,” he interjected. You weren’t sure what he was answering. Do you regret it? Do you miss me? Do you want to leave Andrea to stay with me? Do you never want to see my face again after today? Do you miss _us_?

Wishing that he and you were totally different people in a different time on a different planet, you stared down at your graduation cap in your lap, curling the ribbon between your fingers.

Now, it was your choice what decision you made next, and it could make or break your entire future.

…….

The auditorium was nearly full when you and Charlie strode down the hall, shoulder to shoulder, with his arm wrapped around you assuredly.

Luckily, he had reserved seats for you both in the fourth or fifth row in the middle column, and he was tall, so he would get great footage for your friend.

“You got this.” He smiled at you as you both folded down the velvety seats and sat down, facing the principal and vice principal at the front, standing beside the wooden debate platforms with microphones on them. Behind them were decorations and banners to the year’s graduating class. It was still hard to believe that that included you.

Decades ago, this had been Charlie. You had seen the photograph, snooping with Andrea through his things when he had left you both home alone, cursing loudly when he found the kitchen to be a mess of burnt cookies and spilt flour. You and her got in deep trouble that day. Charlie had worn the same dark robes with the green ribbon that you wore now, but he had gotten far finer with age, just like red wine.

“Thanks, Mr. Barber.” Now it was your turn to smirk, and you could swear that he turned the slightest bit red at that. He remembered. How could he not? You were sure that if you used the word “wet” in any context, he would conbust right there and then. “I’ll have to have a drink with my parents when they get back home.”

Your father was working two towns away for the day, while your mother had an important interview for a new job at the bank. They had cried happy tears in the morning, helping you feel and look your best on your big day before setting off on their own paths, assuring you that they had a talk with “Mr. Barber” and that he would be open to picking and dropping you off.

“We could go out to the bar and get jelly shots or something another time,” he whispered into your ear smoothly, as the principal tapped on his mic up front, crackling loudly and unpleasantly through the speakers, lights dimming all around. 

You nodded, transfixed, lips parted and eyes on your graduation cap. Adult. Woman. Bar-customer. Gosh, this freedom was something new and foreign and, most of all, exciting. It felt like the novelty would never wear off, because, in the course of only a week or so, all of your deepest desires were coming to life.

You loved Mr. Barber. _Gosh_ , you really did.

In every future of yours, whether you be an architect or a street-sweeper, you wanted him. Just him.

Not fancy cars or mansions, just a simple life with a man that you felt so deeply for that it _hurt_. It was unbelievable. 

Love had struck you in the most unexpected way.

When you were called up to receive your diploma, you rose with shaky feet as Charlie got up and clapped behind you, patting your back encouragingly. His phone was held up, over the crowds to stream the event to his daughter.

One day, you wanted that same palm to bruise your ass, but maybe those weren’t the best thoughts to think as you walked down the aisle to the front, all eyes on you. You recalled how embarrassing it had been when you had choked on your water as Andrea and Charlie had done the dishes.

You didn’t want to make as many mistakes now, but you knew that you would. Maybe that was the whole point of life, to make mistakes and learn from them.

Everyone made mistakes.

Sometimes, mistakes turn out to be blessings, like when you had accidentally realized at the ripe age of thirteen or fourteen, for the first time, that you were crushing hardcore on your best friend’s dad.

You wondered what your parents would have to say about that the day when you would spring on them that you two were getting married. 

Okay, maybe that was a little bit _too_ far ahead.

Holding up your diploma and grinning at Charlie from the stage, the principal’s hand on your shoulder, you had never been more proud - had never smiled quite so wide - as you saw the bright flash.

…….

As the students and parents began to file out of the auditorium to chat and exchange numbers or to get cake from the library, Charlie turned the phone camera towards him. You pressed your head beside his shoulder, smiling.

“Love you, Andrea!” you both said with bright smiles before shutting off the video recording and exchanging smiles.

“You’re absolutely adorable in that photo, I’ll have you know,” he chuckled as the vice principal moved up to you to shake your hand, your face flushed with pride.

When you turned around, though, Charlie’s eyes were on the mother standing by the door with her daughter, talking, cleavage visible from the top of her red bodycon dress.   
  


The sight alone made you _snap_ , suddenly, deep inside.

“Would you like to see my art that they hung up in the freshman hallway?” you asked innocently with puppy dog eyes, as soon as the vice principal had moved away.

Charlie narrowed his eyebrows. “Didn’t know that you were that into art. Huh. Sure, I suppose.”

You grabbed his clammy hand, shameless, and tugged him towards the direction of an abandoned-looking hallway. It was filled with tall hallways, dark and navy with scratches gained over time. It didn’t exactly look like an art for art to be displayed within.

You loved the unexpected.

At the sight of a door to an empty classroom, you exclaimed, “Right here!” Before he could protest, you had shoved your hand over his mouth and dragged him into the room.

He stared at you, outraged but with excitement and amusement dancing in his hazel eyes. “Wha-”

You formed a “shh”-ing motion over your lips with your hand as you locked the door from the inside, pulling down the white blinds over the small window.

He did not protest as you pushed him against the wall beside a bookshelf, gripping both sides of his chin roughly. “I saw you look at those slutty mothers.” You pressed your knee into his groin, tossing your cap down on an ebony desk nearby. “But I’m the only one who can make you come, right?”

He let out a hiss and a groan, but you could see him holding back a moan.

You tilted your head at him, mocking and cruel. “You like this, don’t you?” You snaked a hand around the tent in his pants, feeling around. It felt foreign yet hard, and you pumped it a few times. “ _God_ , who knew this was all you really needed? Slut.”

“[Y/N], I don’t know what-” he got out between sharp gasps of arousal.

“Come on, _Daddy_ ,” you intoned, pressing your lips against his and moving them to his ear, whispering slowly, “I wanna play.” 

He looked utterly debauched and humiliated, because he knew that _you_ knew he was getting hard from this treatment and whole situation. He’d come right in his boxer briefs. You’d make sure of that, unzipping his belt and sticking your thumb and index finger through the space, pressing lightly while your other hand did the work.

He was like sex on legs, even in his little white button-up and black slacks with the tiny dark cardigan, because then you saw the buttons struggling to keep shut, and the bit of tummy above his belt. His dad bod was something marvelous.

But this humiliation was just what he deserved, to know that he was yours and that you held the power. You wanted him to miss you, to crave you late at night, when he couldn’t sleep.

“You’re so fucking _filthy_ ,” you admonished as you felt him squirt out into his pants, hands braced on the bookshelves on either side of him, squirming desperately, trying nevertheless to be good for you and let you do the work. He breathed out, ragged with overstimulation and dry, as you felt and saw the wet stain on the front of his dark briefs. “This is _mine_.” You gripped the tip roughly, running a finger along the wet spot. A novel fell from the bookshelf with a clutter.

Charlie quickly zippered himself up again, face red, and pushed you forward, bending you over the desk nearby. He spanked you roughly and with force, cupping your pussy through all of the thick layers of your outfit.

You felt electricity course through your body at the mere touch.

“And what makes you think that _this_ isn’t mine, too, little girl? That I don’t own this tight, pretty little pussy?” 

“Because _you_ are the one of us that just came in your pants in the ninth grade honors literature classroom, Daddy,” you announced with a smirk, straightening up. Your poster on ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen still hung amongst the other treasured ones behind the teacher’s desk.

You both froze at the sound of keys jingling from the door.

The window farthest from the entrance had an opening mechanism.

Charlie and you looked right at each other at the sight, exchanging mischievous glances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Twitter @driversdarling and, if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave kudos or even a comment! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, and even hits make my day! :)


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